


Exchange the Experience

by lucianowriter



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Break up isn't going to happen, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, NO DEATHS, Pre-Break Up, Season 5 compliant, Slight Canon Divergence, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-12
Updated: 2016-12-12
Packaged: 2018-09-08 03:45:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8829160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lucianowriter/pseuds/lucianowriter
Summary: Ian has been placed in the psych hold after running off with Yevgeny. What that means for his and Mickey's future is still up in the air. Mickey worries that Ian won't be the same and all he wants is to take all of Ian's pain away. When he can't he acts out in the only ways he knows how: drinking and distance.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [KeepGoing](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KeepGoing/gifts).



> There are elements of depression and suicide, so be forewarned. Hope you enjoy. 
> 
> Fic inspired by the song Running Up That Hill by Placebo. It's one of my all time favorite songs you should seriously check it out.

**_If I only could,_ **

**_I’d make a deal with God,_ **

**_And I’d get him to swap our places._ **

 

Mickey couldn’t sleep. He hadn’t slept since the day they locked Ian in that place. Granted Ian needed it, badly, but still it was hard on Mickey. He just didn’t like admitting out loud how much it was killing him. Ever since Ian had left him for the Army, Mickey had known he would do anything for Ian. Anything. 

 

Jesus it wasn’t an easy task, especially now. It’s not like Mickey actually could do much for Ian right now. He couldn’t exactly shoulder this burden with him. All he could do was support him and tell him that he mattered. That he loved him. Mickey wasn’t even sure what else his support would mean for Ian because he still didn’t quite understand Ian’s diagnosis. 

 

Bipolar. 

 

Sure it meant depression but, apparently it was even more than that. Mickey knew that in the months and years that would follow things would be a seesaw of highs and lows. He just wasn’t exactly sure how much their lives would change. All he wanted was to be able to take on this suffering for Ian so that he didn’t have to.

 

They both had been through so much, both together and apart. Life in Chicago’s south side wasn’t exactly picket fences and fucking fairy tales. Hell most the people he knew grew up dirt ass poor and broken. Either their families were broken or they themselves were. It only made sense that something would come along and break the one person he loved above all else.

 

Holy fuck. Love. What a concept. Mickey wasn’t exactly one to admit these strong of feelings for anyone. Sure he loved his sister Mandy, but he rarely ever uttered those actual words. Then Ian fucking Gallagher came along and flipped his whole fucking world off kilter. It was weird being thrust into the orbit of this kid he’d known about his whole life (everyone knew about Frank Gallagher and his brood) and watching as everything he thought he had control on slip away. He thought he had dealt with those weird feelings ages ago. Then Ian came bounding into his room demanding a gun and shit hit the fan. From that moment on he couldn’t get Ian out of his head.

 

Over the next year or so Ian wheedled his way under his skin. Despite Mickey trying everything he could to prevent it from happening. Ian’s smile and his caring nature slowly picked away at the hard shell around Mickey’s heart, softening it. Mickey became a better man because of Ian’s devotion and love. He never imagined any one person could undo all the torment and brainwashing he’d endured his whole life under his father. Then Gallagher came along and he believed in good again.

 

Now here Mickey was, sitting at his father’s old table, in the home his father once owned; or still owned but didn’t live in due to another jail stint. He was nursing a cup of coffee hoping it’ll dissipate the tired feeling that is in his bones. He is so tired and so focused on his own thoughts that he doesn’t even see when Mandy slinks in. She had came back for a weekend, telling Kenyata that Mickey really needed her. Which wasn’t a complete lie. She is sitting down next to him before he even looks up and notices her.

 

“Hey.” She softly whispers, reaching her hand out to him. It lands softly on his wrist and she lovingly gives it a squeeze.

 

“Hey.” Mickey mumbles back, taking his opposite hand off of the coffee mug and rubbing his eyes. “Fuck.”

 

“How much sleep did you get?” Mandy asks, her voice still barely above a whisper. 

 

Instead of answering Mickey just looks her full in the eyes and quirks his eyebrow. Mandy knows better than to ask that when he looks as bad as he feels, which he knows he does.

 

“Ian is gonna be out soon. It’s not like he’s stuck there forever.” Mandy points out.

 

“That’s not what’s got me messed up Mandy.” Mickey states hoarsely, his voice scratchy from the lack of sleep. “It’s all this shit in general. What am I supposed to do? I want to take care of him but, I no longer know how.”

 

“Fuck, Mick. That’s some deep shit.” Mandy whistles, soft and low. “You know you can’t suffer for him right? The most you can do is be there. Don’t run.”

 

“If anything I’d be running towards it all, if I could.” Mickey replies, pulling out of his sister’s touch to try and clear his head of everything.

 

**_Be running up that road,_ **

**_Be running up that hill,_ **

**_Be running up that building,_ **

**_If I only could, oh._ **

 

Mickey looks up from where he was standing, staring at his hands, and notices that Svetlana has joined the group. She sneers at his clearly disheveled look. Mickey knows that she doesn’t like his relationship with Ian. After all she thought marrying him would make her life better, not aware that he was just covering up his homosexuality.

 

“Forget orange boy. He fucking crazy.” Svetlana says as she grabs a bottle for Yevgeny.

 

Mickey doesn’t reply. The tiredness in him is finally taking it’s toll and he no longer has any fight left. He mumbles about going to bed and moves to leave the kitchen when Svetlana’s next words hit him and he changes his mind.

 

“When he get out of crazy house, he not come here. Not safe for baby.” Svetlana tells Mickey, without even looking at him.

 

Mickey sees red, he grabs her by the arm and turns her so she is facing him. “You don’t control this house. I do! HE STAYS HERE BITCH! Just be glad I don’t chuck your ass out!” 

 

Mandy reaches up and places her hand gently on his back to reel him back from doing something he might regret. For that Mickey is grateful. He backs up from his extremely close proximity to Svetlana. He rubs the corner of his mouth with his thumb before turning to leave the room once more.

 

“Be grateful I choose to let you stay. Especially since you are just a washed up whore.”

 

Mickey doesn’t really mean those words, but he was never good with dealing with his emotions. Anytime he was hurting he would lash out and try to make people hate him. He’s been doing it less and less these days because of Ian. However, Ian’s new challenge was messing with his head so much he was digressing into his old habits. 

 

On his way to his room he grabs a six pack of beer sitting out on a shelf in the front room. Maybe a few drinks will clear his head. Help him to deal with how he wants nothing more than to suffer for Ian but can’t. He wishes he knew how to talk about how he was feeling but, Mickey was never really one to discuss his feelings. 

 

Laying down on his bed, Mickey pops open the first can. The beer tastes great on his tongue and his eyes lull a bit. Mickey shakes himself back awake, just enough that he can finish his beer. One beer and then he can sleep. He knows the one beer won’t get him drunk, but it will at least dull his senses and thoughts. Which means his sleep will less likely be plagued with terrifying and painful thoughts about Ian. 

 

Before he can drift off to sleep though his mind turns to how Ian had been when he had visited him yesterday afternoon. It had definitely not been the Ian he knew. This Ian was a zombie and barely aware of what was going on around him. Mickey, was deeply troubled by this. It caused his heart to ache so much because he couldn’t make Ian all better. Instead, of showing that, Mickey had smiled and greeted Ian with a hug and a kiss. He even tried to make fucking small talk. Just to put Ian at ease. It hadn’t worked though and Mickey had ran. Mostly because he knew if he stayed and had to look at Fiona’s fucking broken face one more time he would have broken down. 

 

Mickey Milkovich does not do breakdowns. No he doesn’t.

  
  


A few hours later, Mickey is up once more and drinking some more of the six pack. He’s decided that staying drunk is easier than thinking or feeling so that’s what he does. He knows that Ian is getting released today, but he doesn’t bother going to him. What’s the point if he can’t even fucking do anything for him. At least that’s what he says to Mandy when she asks. Underneath it all though he’s fucking terrified.

 

Terrified that Ian will no longer be Ian, ever again. Terrified of what the diagnosis means for their future. Terrified that Ian will no longer even want him. 

 

So for the next few days Mickey doesn’t leave his house. Instead he drinks and sleeps. He trickles back into the asshole attitude he had before Ian. He outwardly seems like he doesn’t give two shits about any of this. However, on the inside he is still a mess. He still doesn’t know how he can help him. 

 

**_Do you want to know that it doesn't hurt me?_ **

**_Do you want to hear about the deal that I'm making?_ **

**_You, it's you and me._ **

 

Finally after about 48 hours of Mickey pissing his sanity away with tons of alcohol, a Gallagher steps in. But, it’s the one he least expected. Debbie. Sweet little Debbie Gallagher. She stands in front of Mickey and gives him this whole speech about Frank and Monica and how he and Ian were just like them. Mickey barely even acknowledged her presence. Not even when she says the one statement that drives a stake through his heart.

 

“You can’t drink him away, Mickey.”

 

Mickey responded by taking the last drink of his opened can of beer. He then chucks the can to the side and stares her down without a word. She sighs and starts to leave. Then she thinks better of it and turns back to him.

 

“He needs you. He doesn’t say it but I can tell he’s struggling. And looking at you I can see you are struggling too.” Debbie gives him a knowing look.

 

“Fuck off.” Mickey growls menacingly at her.

 

“You don’t scare me or even fool me. I can see in your eyes you are hurting. Go to him.” Debbie says softly and then makes her official exit. 

 

Mickey continues standing in the middle of his room with his guitar. He knows that what she said was all truth. He was hurting. He was trying to cover it up. He just hated being told that he isn’t succeeding at fooling people because that means he actually has to address the feelings and emotions he’d rather keep hidden.

 

“She’s right you know.” Mandy leans in his doorway.

 

“Fuck you still doing here Mandy? I don’t fucking need you!” Mickey screams as he throws the guitar down on the ground and actually starts getting dressed.

 

“Oh you gonna throw a fit like a little pussy because everyone can see right through your bullshit?” Mandy screams back. “You fucking love him and you are terrified of what this change means. Don’t act like you don’t give a shit because I know you’d give up your own fucking life for him.” 

 

Mickey drops the shirt he was about to put on and just stares at his sister. He knew that she could see right through him most of the time. After all they grew up together, he couldn’t ever hide shit from her. Except his being gay, before his disastrous wedding of course. The good thing about Mandy was she would call him out on his shit, but then she would back off and let him make the next move. Even if she didn’t like the outcome.

 

“I’m going. Can’t you fucking tell? I’m getting dressed ain’t I?” Mickey motions his arms to show he is now in fact clothed.

 

“Doesn’t mean you are going. But I love that you are. It’ll be great for both of you.”

 

Mickey doesn’t respond, he just picks up his shirt and puts it on. Then he gets a sweatshirt to put on over it and leaves the house for the first time in days. He knows the way to the Gallagher house so well he could do it blindfolded. 

 

He practically runs the second half of the journey because despite what he’d been saying for days and despite how worried he was about the future he really did miss Ian. His chest became tight the closer he got and he slows down. Suddenly his fears kick back in again. What if Ian rejects him on sight? What if Ian is still that zombified version of himself? 

 

It doesn’t matter. Mickey will stay by him no matter what because, these last few days have hurt more than he ever wants to hurt again. None of that hurt was even to help Ian it was just hurt to hurt himself. To stop himself from feeling all the feelings he had in his soul for the young Gallagher.

 

He is silently let into the home by Fiona. She forces a smile that tells Mickey she’s back to tolerated indifference when it comes to him. She probably thinks that he will only hurt Ian further because it took him a couple days to come and see him. What she doesn’t know though is this whole struggle isn’t just Ian’s it’s Mickey’s too and he would rather die than abandon Ian to go it alone.

 

Mickey softly opens Ian’s door. He sees his boyfriend laying down under the covers with only a small lamp on for lighting. He looks so vulnerable like that. As Mickey steps forward, Ian turns his head and looks right at Mickey. Mickey can tell that Ian isn’t the same zombie he was a few days ago but, he’s also more broken and beaten than Mickey has ever seen him before.

 

“Sorry I’m late.” Mickey whispers as he takes off his sweatshirt and climbs up on the bed to curl up next to Ian.

 

**_Tell me, we both matter, don't we?_ **

**_You, you and me._ **

**_It's you and me won't be unhappy._ **

 

Ian pushes his head up against Mickey’s. His eyes close as Mickey leans up and plants a kiss on his forehead. Mickey hears him sigh and he pulls Ian even closer to him.

 

“I’m so sorry. I was just a bit messed up.” Mickey whispers against Ian’s shoulder.

 

“You’re messed up?” Ian whispers, it’s teasing but the lightheartedness of it barely reaches his lips. The joke falls flat in the small space between them.

 

“I know I shouldn’t be but, I am.” Mickey mutters, running his fingers down Ian’s bare arm.

 

“Hey, Mick.” Ian says softly, after a few minutes of silence had passed between them.

 

“Yeah.” Mickey leans back to better look into Ian’s eyes. There is a sadness in them that Mickey hates seeing.

 

“I’m uhh.” Ian sighs clearly trying to get words out, his emotions choking the air. “I’m drowning Mick. I’m drowning and I can’t fight it anymore.”

 

Mickey is stunned into silence. He has never heard Ian so broken before. Never, even heard him mention wanting to end it all. But here it was, clear as day and the reality of Ian’s disorder sinks in. There could be many days like this between them. 

 

“That’s okay. I’ll hold you up.” Mickey then drags Ian closer and clings to him for dear life. He feels tears well up in his eyes and drip down into Ian’s hair. It’s always been Ian who is the strong and sure one. Now that role lands on Mickey’s shoulders. He is more than happy to shoulder the burden but, christ he wishes he didn’t have to.

 

“No matter how bad it gets I won’t leave. You aren’t alone Ian.” Mickey finds himself saying. He is shocked at his level of raw honesty, but then he realizes that it’s exactly what Ian needs.

 

A comfortable silence falls between them. Mickey finds himself counting each of Ian’s breaths. As if each subsequent one will bring him further and further from the unstable reality they now both face. Like each new breath is a new stitch in the blanket of comfort Mickey needs Ian to be wrapped in.

 

“You deserve to be happy Mick.” Ian croaks out finally. They are still curled up with Ian laying on Mickey’s chest with Mickey’s arms around him. “Not stuck with someone who’s crazy. I’ve seen what it does to people. You deserve better.”

 

“Stop. Ain’t nothing better for me than you.” Mickey whispers as his grip on Ian tightens. “You matter more to me than anything else, Ian.” 

 

“Who knew getting sick is what would get you to be sentimental.” Ian tries his hand at teasing once more. It once again falls flat. Mostly because Mickey knows it’s all just a cover. Ian’s terrified and so he’s trying to make it seem like nothing bad is going on. That everything is normal.

 

“Fuck off.” Mickey replies with a fond smile and a kiss to Ian’s hair. 

 

For the next hour Mickey lays with Ian in his arms. The younger man soon drifts off to sleep and Mickey stays. He gently caresses Ian’s arm in comfort; not just for Ian but himself as well. The movement really calms him and grounds him. He feels as if he would just float away if his hands weren’t firmly attached to Ian’s skin. The weight of their new reality should be sinking him to the ground but, he feels barely there. As if Ian is the one thing keeping him in existence. 

 

What a weird feeling. Mickey can’t believe that he needs Ian just as much as Ian needs him. He knows that without him Ian wouldn’t be able to stay above water. Without Ian he knows he won’t be able to stick to the ground. Fuck! His fifteen year old self would beat the shit out of his current self just for feeling this way. Who knew one scrawny, pale kid from the neighborhood would come along and make him actually feel again. Would change his life so completely that he can’t be Mickey without him.

 

Mickey and Ian. Ian and Mickey. 

 

That thought alone makes him really want to bolt and ignore all the hard feelings bouncing around in his brain. But one sigh from Ian as he sleeps on is all it takes to keep him glued to the bed. Just as Mickey himself is about to drift off the bedroom door opens and in walks Lip.

 

“So, now you decide to show up? Where were you a couple days ago when he got released? Or yesterday when he flushed his pills?” Lip doesn’t even start with pleasantries, instead he jumps right into chewing Mickey out for not being there.

 

“Would you fucking shut up?!” Mickey replies barely above a whisper, “He’s fucking asleep. Something I can imagine he hasn’t gotten much of lately.”

 

“Really?! You’re gonna tell me to shut up when you’re not answering for where the fuck you’ve been?” Lip tones down his voice but not his anger.

 

“Why does it matter to you? He’s okay with it ain’t he?” Mickey motions to Ian, who is currently wrapped around Mickey like an octopus. “I’m sick of you fucking Gallagher’s acting like you know what’s best for him and shit. Instead of letting him fucking decide. Let him fucking sleep.” 

 

Lip looks as if he is going to reply but instead he storms back out of the room and slams the door behind him. The startling sound of the door wakes up Ian. Mickey responds with a good hearty ‘fuck’. 

 

“You’re still here?” Ian leans up enough to look down into Mickey’s face.

 

“Where else would I be?” Mickey responds, reaching up and placing his hand on Ian’s cheek. Ian leans into the touch with a quirk of his mouth that could be interpreted as a smile.

 

“Still think you deserve more.” Ian mumbles softly. Turning his gaze away from Mickey’s.

 

Mickey gently turns Ian’s face back towards his before saying, “You’re all I need.”

 

Ian responds by gently placing a quick kiss on Mickey’s mouth before settling back on his chest and drifting off once more. Mickey sighs. His thoughts swirling with how their role reversal is gonna work. Ian’s more insecure and vulnerable than Mickey has ever seen him and Mickey knows he has to be the strong one. The anchor. With that thought, he too slips into a comfortable sleep.

 

**_C'mon, baby, c'mon darling,_ **

**_Let me steal this moment from you now._ **

**_C'mon, angel, c'mon, c'mon, darling,_ **

**_Let's exchange the experience, oh_ **

 

The next day Mickey sat in the waiting room of the clinic with Ian. Ian was jiggling his leg in nerves so Mickey reaches out and squeezes his knee, letting him know he's there. Ian looks into his eyes and Mickey sees it; the brokenness. The despair that Ian is feeling is tangible enough that Mickey can feel it. He wants nothing more than to take hold of it and take it all for himself. 

 

It seems like hours before Ian’s name is called. Ian gets up and looks back at Mickey.

 

“You don't have to come.” Ian says timidly, like he's afraid of Mickey’s response. 

 

“I'm here ain't I?” Mickey shrugs with a small, hopefully comforting smile. 

 

He gets up and grabs Ian’s hand and they follow the nurse to the back. Even if Ian doesn't say it, Mickey knows he's terrified. He knows Ian doesn't like the way the drugs make him feel. As they walk he gives Ian’s hand a reassuring squeeze. Telling him that no matter what Mickey will be there.

 

The doctor’s office is white and plain. It almost makes Mickey crazy just thinking about sitting in it for any period of time. Luckily the doctor enters soon enough and addresses them.

 

“Which of you is Ian Gallagher?” the doctor sounds rushed and slightly disconnected from them. Mickey can just tell she’s not gonna care about Ian from all the other regular Joe’s who come through here. If Mickey had more money he’d get Ian a better doctor, but as it is this is the best they can afford.

 

“I am.” Ian raises his hand slightly and mutters the words without even looking at the doctor. 

 

There is a table next to the chairs where Ian and Mickey sit. Mickey bites his lip as he watches the doctor cross over to the medicine cabinet behind him where all the meds are locked up.

 

“It says here you flushed your pills a couple days ago.” the doctor is rummaging in the cabinet as she speaks to them. For some reason this really grates on Mickey’s nerves.

 

“Yeah” Ian mutters, staring at his hands as if they hold the secrets to the universe. There is a sort of dejected sound in his voice.

 

“He said the pills made him feel disconnected. Like he was a zombie. Can’t you guys fix that shit?” Mickey adds, staring down the doctor hoping it will cause her to turn around and actually look at them.

 

“Unfortunately I can only slightly adjust them and hope that helps. You have to make an appointment with us for a week from now to see how you are doing. It’s really just a trial and error at this point. However, you must know any time he starts a new combination it may make him feel foggy for a few days before things clear up and start making him better, more balanced.” the doctor finally looks at Mickey with a smile as she hands him the medicine.

 

“Now Ian, do you have a list of people to contact if you are ever feeling…” the doctor pauses, clearly unsure how to continue.

 

“What like a suicide list?” Mickey says, impulsively without thinking.

 

“If the meds are supposed to work why would I need a suicide list?” Ian suddenly perks up and joins the conversation. 

 

“You don’t, you got me.” Mickey asserts. He looks from the doctor to Ian and back.

 

“I would still suggest making a list, just in case.” the doctor reiterates, this time looking directly at Ian. Mickey can tell she is judging him based on his looks and his “FUCK U-UP” tattoos. She doesn’t trust that Mickey is the sticking around type. Fuck her.

 

They get back to the Gallagher home within the hour. Mickey helps Ian take the new regiment of drugs. Silence passes between them. Mickey doesn’t say anything because honestly he has no words for what he is thinking. He’s terrified that the drugs aren’t going to be enough and Ian will need that suicide list after all. Especially because right now Ian is looking the most broken Mickey has ever seen him. His eyes are sad but also a bit dead, like he no longer cares. That worries him more than anything. What if Ian wants nothing more than to just end it all and Mickey can’t do anything to stop it.

 

Ian downs his meds and looks longingly at Mickey. He doesn’t need to say the words for Mickey to know he just wants to lay down curled up next to Mickey and shut out the world for a while. So Mickey takes his hand and leads him up the stairs.

 

They lay down on Ian’s bed, comfortable in their companionable silence. Ian clings tightly to Mickey and Mickey knows it’s because he needs Mickey to anchor him down. Keep him from drifting too far.

 

“I just want to feel normal again.” Ian whispers after a while. 

 

They both turn in that moment and face each other on their sides. Mickey rests his hand on Ian’s hip for a bit while he leans in for a kiss. The kiss isn’t intense or sexually driven in any way. It’s a kiss to just simply convey to Ian that he is there and he isn’t going anywhere.

 

When Mickey pulls away from the kiss he moves his hand up to cup Ian’s cheek. He caresses his thumb there and softly says, “It will happen. Some day. But until you do, lean on me. I’ll help keep you up for a while. Let me shoulder some of the weight.”

 

“You shouldn’t waste your life taking care of me.” Ian mutters, his words more honest and true than any Mickey has ever heard before. That, more than anything, breaks his heart.

 

“It’s not a waste if it’s you.” Mickey mutters, pulling Ian closer to him. Embracing him tightly to nonverbally tell him that he is there as much for himself as he is for Ian.

  
  


The next morning Mickey is startled awake by his phone shrilling loudly at him. He reaches for it to shut off the noise and prevent it from waking Ian up. Unfortunately it’s a call from Svetlana and it wakes Ian up before he can even answer it. He wraps his arm more tightly around Ian before accepting the call.

 

“What?!” Mickey growls into the receiver; making sure to clearly convey to Svetlana his annoyance.

 

“I sorry. Baby sick. Forgot orange boy more important. You father act like it.” Svetlana yells back at him before hanging up the phone without giving him a chance to respond.

 

Mickey throws the phone back down on the bedside table and curses before untangling himself from Ian’s embrace. He sits up on the edge of the bed and grabs his discarded jeans. He feels Ian sit up as well. Mickey turns slightly because he expected Ian to react to him leaving with a touch or a kiss even. Instead, Ian is simply sitting up in the bed with his eyes staring off. His body language is distant and withdrawn. Mickey knows he should stay and deal with what Ian is feeling, but he also knows that Svetlana is right. He is Yev’s father and should act like it.

 

He throws on a clean shirt and stands up. His heart is screaming at him not to go. However, his head says that he needs to go deal with Svetlana or else everything is gonna become a huge fucking mess, one that could result in her somehow taking over the Milkovich home. A Svetlana mess like that coupled with Ian’s mess is going to be way more than Mickey can handle all at once. So, yes he is leaving his boyfriend for a few hours, but at least here he won’t be alone. His sisters and brothers are here. 

 

“Hey, I gotta go deal with Lana’s stupid shit. I won’t be long. I promise. Then I am coming right back here.” Mickey leans closer to Ian and tries to get a reaction or movement of any kind from him. Even when Mickey plants a kiss on his cheek, Ian doesn’t react.

 

Mickey bites his lip and debates, once more, leaving Ian alone. With a sigh he decides that an hour or two away won't be too big of a deal. 

 

“I'm leaving now. If you need anything talk to Lip or Debbie they are downstairs. I'll be back soon. I promise.” Mickey stands at the door addressing Ian. “I love you.”

 

Mickey then turns and leaves. He heads down the stairs and let's Debbie and Lip know he's stepping out but that he will be back. He even mentions that Ian is awake but not up to getting out of bed today. Then he leaves to go deal with whatever Svetlana wants from him.

 

He gets to his house and all seems fine from the outside, but he's still not sure what he will find on the inside. With a sucking in of air Mickey opens the door; steeling himself for the inevitable fallout. Once inside he sees that not much has changed, except his sister is clearly gone. Back to fucking Kenyata. His son is sitting in a pop up playpen thing, playing with his toy blocks. Mickey steps up to him to inspect him more closely. 

 

_ That lying bitch. _ He thinks once he sees that his son is clearly okay. 

 

“What the fuck do you need, bitch” Mickey calls out. 

 

Svetlana comes from back of the house wearing a semi-nice outfit. “You let your son hear you call his mother that?”

 

“The kids like a few months old. He don't know nothing.” Mickey scoffs, “Why'd you say he was sick. He looks fine to me. Besides I gotta get back to Ian.”

 

“I need you here to watch baby. I have meeting. Important. Orange boy can wait.” Svetlana smiles menacingly as she heads out the door.

 

“Hold up! How fucking long?” Mickey yells at her retreating figure.

 

“A couple hours.” Svetlana says without even turning around. “Be good father.”

 

“FUCK!” Mickey yells to the empty house at large. “Guess it's just you and me kid.” Mickey then plops down on the couch and sighs. 

 

When did his life become such a mess? When did he give up who he is because of the ones he loved or felt obligated to? Not that he was really complaining, because he'd give up everything just to make sure Ian and Yevgeny were happy. Dammit if it wasn't hard trying to be everything for both of them. 

 

He pulls out his phone and shoots Ian a text letting him know what was going on. 

 

_ Svetlana needs me here watching kid. Be back in a couple hours.  _

 

After a few minutes Ian responds with a simple “ok”. 

 

Mickey willed himself not to worry. After all Ian was on meds again and he was gonna be fine for a couple hours. It didn't matter that a feeling in his gut said he should worry. Mickey had to trust that Ian would be fine. If he couldn't find it in him to trust him they would never make it as a couple. 

 

So for the next few hours Mickey plays with his son, teaching him the names of things and telling him silly stories. A few times he even thinks that when Ian’s his old self again he'll have a field day seeing Mickey be so domestic. 

 

Almost three and a half hours after leaving, Svetlana returns. She coos at Yevgeny and blatantly ignores Mickey. He informs her of Yev’s last diaper change and then takes his leave. 

 

He arrives back at the Gallagher’s in record time. As he comes bursting in the front door, Lip looks up from his textbooks with a slight sneer. Debbie gives a small smile and waves.

 

“He talk to either of you this whole time?” Mickey asks, as he heads towards the stairs and walks partway up them.

 

“No. I figure he probably fell asleep.” Debbie says in her soft sweet voice.

 

Mickey doesn't respond he just continues up the stairs to Ian’s room. A bad feeling in the pit of his stomach suddenly flares up and he's terrified of what he will find there. However, when he softly eases Ian’s door open and finds Ian asleep on his bed, with just the small lamp on, he breathes a sigh of relief. That is until he steps closer to the bed and almost trips on an empty bottle on the floor. He stoops over and picks it up.

 

Reading the label all the color drains from his face. It's Ian’s medicine bottle and it's completely empty. A strangled noise leaves his mouth and he quickly goes to Ian’s body. He can't speak from the fear of it all. So he reaches out and shakes Ian hard enough that it should wake anyone. Ian doesn't even respond. 

 

Suddenly he hears a strangled and anguished scream. He spins around thinking it's a Gallagher but when no one else is there he realizes it's his own cries. Soon enough though Debbie and Lip come running. Mickey can’t move. He just stands there staring at Ian’s motionless body on the bed. In his head a steady flow of the same words keeps going round and round,  _ It’s all my fault. I shouldn’t have left him. _

 

He stands there in a daze as Lip screams instructions to Debbie. He can’t even answer when Lip directs his attention to him.

 

“What did he do? How long has he been like this? Why’d you leave the fucking pills where he could take them?” 

 

Mickey knows by Lip’s words and his looks that he blames Mickey. He’s looking for someone to blame besides Ian and Mickey is the easiest target for him. Mickey’s own guilt and shock over the whole situation is preventing him from stopping the blame. So he just shoulders it.

 

Before he knows it the paramedics have arrived and they push him out of the room. Mickey is still reeling from what he had seen that he moves without any argument. Maybe Fiona had been right to not trust him or his intentions. All he ever did was hurt Ian. This was yet another shining example of that happening. Before the paramedics have even left the room Mickey is gone. He’s running. Running until his chest hurts and he can’t breathe anymore. Then he stops and sees that he ran all the way to the ball fields. All without thinking about it.

 

He walks out into the middle of the ball diamond and throws his head back. Then he lets out the most gut wrenching scream he has ever mustered in all his life. He screams for not only the events of the day but for all the crazy that had happened since his son was born. It’s for all the hell life has put him and Ian through, plus all the hell Ian has put  _ him _ through. 

 

Once the last of the scream has left his body he slumps to the ground, exhausted. Utterly exhausted. It’s only been about a week since Ian’s official diagnosis, but to Mickey it feels like it’s been a year. He remains there, in the dirt, on his knees until his chest stops heaving with each breath. Then he picks himself up, dusts himself off and heads towards the hospital he knows Ian was taken to.

 

**_You don't want to hurt me,_ **

**_But see how deep the bullet lies._ **

**_Unaware I'm tearing you asunder._ **

**_Ooh, there is thunder in our hearts._ **

 

Mickey slowly enters the hospital front entrance. He is still tired, you could even say he was broken. Who knew love could be so wonderful and beautiful and at the same time rip you to pieces?

 

He finds the Gallaghers all sitting in plastic chairs waiting to hear anything about Ian. He sighs and heads over towards them. He knows a fight is probably coming and he’s prepared to let it roll over him. Fiona is the first to look up as he approaches. She seems a bit shocked, but soon recovers herself. Her shock turns to anger and hurt. Mickey knows he’s about to get yelled at for everything, and honestly with how he’s feeling that won’t be so bad. It could be justified even. It is his fault after all.

 

“How dare you come here?” Fiona hisses at him, it’s clear she’s trying not to yell because of where they are.

 

“Fiona-” Carl starts, grabbing her arm to get her attention, while also looking sadly at Mickey.

 

“No,” Fiona says giving her brother a cursory glance before turning back to Mickey. “I warned you. This could make him suicidal. That he needed help. But YOU insisted he stay with you; that you had it handled. Then you didn’t because he ended up paranoid and stole YOUR BABY! Sure he got help then, but it was too late  _ Mickey! _ ” She says his name there at the end with ounces and ounces of disdain. It feels like poison once it hits Mickey’s brain.

 

He could respond. Fight back even. But Mickey is broken, Ian finally did it. He broke him. Mickey knows that everything Fiona says is true. He should have gotten Ian help sooner. Maybe then none of this would’ve happened.

 

“You do nothing but hurt him Mickey. Maybe it’s time you go.” Fiona’s words have an air of finality to them. Like she isn’t going to budge on this at all.

 

“Fi, you can’t decide that for Ian!” Debbie cries out, her eyes focused on Mickey. The two of them had always had this silent understanding of each other. It’s kind of nice right now because maybe just maybe it’ll allow him to say goodbye to Ian.

 

Just as Fiona opens her mouth to respond a doctor strides over. He must have spoken with them before Mickey arrived because he comes right over without having to call out and find them. Mickey hangs back, but remains close enough he can still hear.

 

“We managed to pump Ian’s stomach of all the pills he took. However, since it’s unclear how long he was unconscious when you found him we can’t know the lasting impact until he wakes up. His brain may have been without oxygen for an extended period of time which could have caused severe damage.” The doctor tells Fiona.

 

“When will he wake up?” Fiona utters, barely above a whisper. The pain in her voice makes Mickey’s heart ache. This time he hadn’t just hurt Ian, he’d hurt everyone.

 

“It’s still unsure. At this point it’s a waiting game, but hopefully it will be within 24 hours.” The doctor replies in a tone that tells Mickey he’s done this a time or two.

 

“Can we,” Fiona starts but then gets choked up. “Can we see him?” She finally finishes and Mickey sees her grab ahold of Lip and Debbie, pulling them close as tears fall down her face.

 

“Sure. Family only though.” The doctor gives Mickey a hard look, as if he too knows what Mickey’s done.

 

Mickey goes to sit back down but, Debbie grabs him by the arm. When Mickey looks at her questioningly she gives a sad smile and says, “It’s like you said, ‘You, me, us. His fucking family.’ You’re his family too, Mick.” 

 

“But Fiona.” Mickey finally manages to speak. His voice is raspy from lack of use over the last few hours coupled with many rounds of screaming.

 

“Let me deal with her. Ian would hate us if he wakes up and finds out you aren’t there, or that you were never allowed in.” Debbie gives his hand a tight squeeze from where she had grabbed it as they’d walked.

 

They don’t say anything else for the rest of the journey to Ian’s room. When they get there, Debbie moves her hand to wrap around Mickey’s waist. They stand against the wall on the opposite side of the hall. From the looks of it Fiona and Lip are in the room with Ian while Carl and Liam wait outside. 

 

About an hour later Fiona ducks her head out and sees Mickey. She is about to yell at him when Debbie unwraps herself from his waist and steps forward. 

 

“He’s part of Ian’s family too. You may blame him for shit he has no control over, but you can’t keep him from Ian. That’s Ian’s decision, not yours. He comes in to see him with me.” Debbie then grabs Mickey’s hand once more and pushes them past Fiona into the room.

 

She gives Lip a look that would kill and Lip stands up. He walks out of the room dragging Fiona with him. As soon as the door closes, Debbie turns to Mickey. 

 

“I’ll be in the bathroom.” Her implication of letting Mickey have alone time with Ian is louder than anything Mickey has ever heard. He feels a fondness for the youngest Gallagher girl. He knows that under different circumstances he might even tease Debbie to show her he appreciates all that she’s done for him. Debbie crosses the room to a door marked with a restroom sign. She turns back and waves her hand in a ‘go on’ motion before stepping in and closing the door tight.

 

Mickey turns back to Ian. He looks small in the bed, small and pale. He has a tube down his throat to assist him with breathing. Stepping up to the bed Mickey sits on the chair and grabs Ian’s hand. It is cold. Mickey stares at the sadness still etched into every feature of Ian’s face. He sucks in a breath, trying not to break down.

 

“Christ, Ian!” He manages to utter before he loses it.

 

He feels the tears welling up in his eyes and they fall the minute he tries to breathe in. That action starts the sobs. He wants them to stop but he no longer has control on his body. It shakes with each sob and he hears the sound of it. It is so loud he feels it could wake the dead. That’s when the choked out words start to run from his mouth, unable to be stopped or filtered.

 

“Ian, I am so sorry. I shouldn’t have left you. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. All I ever do is hurt you. I’m so fucking sorry. I’ve never really been sorry of anything. You know me, no regrets. But, fuck! This I regret. I regret all of it.”

 

Mickey can imagine that right now he looks like one of those fucking dramatic girls in romance movies. Confessing his heart to the one he loved. Mickey loved Ian, sure but don’t expect him to say it all the time. Seeing Ian like this made him want to just say it over and over until it healed him. That fucking terrified him. So he did the only thing he could think of to do. He ran.

 

He runs, again. Runs until he can’t breathe anymore. Runs until it hurts so much he has tears in his eyes again. This time he ends up near the Kash and Grab. Fuck why does his body keep subconsciously taking him places he used to haunt with Ian?

 

He goes inside and buys a bottle of whiskey. If he’s gonna get through this day and the next and so forth he’s gonna need alcohol. As a second thought he grabs another bottle. He goes up to the register and growls at the teen behind the counter. The kid was smiling and cheerful for christ sake. No one in south side should be that fucking happy. Mickey throws his money at the kid and waits only long enough to get his change before bolting out the door again.

 

This time he walks, he walks all the way to the ball fields. He sits on the bench in the dugout and pulls out the first bottle. The image of Ian in that hospital bed flashes before his eyes as he takes the first swig. He is not going to let his body lose control again. He can’t. The alcohol burns as it reaches his throat, but he welcomes the burn with open arms. Mickey knows that he deserves the pain.

 

He keeps drinking. Every time a thought of Ian pops up he takes another drink. It becomes his very own personal drinking game. He drinks to forget. Screw Debbie and her ‘You can’t drink him away, Mickey’. He sure as fuck was gonna try his damnedest. Before Mickey knows it he is taking the last swig from the second bottle. His eyes droop and he curls up on the bench, gladly welcoming the blackness.

 

He wakes up to a shrill ringing coming from his jacket pocket, that was situated directly under his head. He groans and grabs his head as he tries to sit up but finds the world spinning. The ringing continues. He fumbles around until he finds the phone and answers it, just to stop the ringing.

 

“Hello.” Mickey slurs, he realizes he’s not hung over as much as he’s still slightly drunk from his bender the night before.

 

“Red haired girl looking for you. She said orange boy ask for you. I tell her you not here. Go to her.” Svetlana says right before doing her usual hang up before Mickey can respond. 

 

Mickey stares at the phone in his hand and thinks about it all. Debbie came looking for him. Ian wanted to see him, which meant he was awake. Fuck!

 

Mickey can’t allow himself to think about any of this right now. He needs to clear his head, of any feelings or thoughts pertaining to one Ian Gallagher. It was easier this way. It allowed them both to start fresh. To not have the other hurt or ruin their life. He stumbles onto his feet. The empty bottles of whiskey clatter against the concrete floor of the dugout. The sound is increased ten fold by his pounding head. Mickey curses again and grabs his jacket, putting it on. He stumbles away from the ball fields. 

 

He is heading back towards his house when he changes his mind and decides to get more alcohol first. So he goes to a convenience store and buys a 6 pack of beer and another bottle of whiskey. Then he slowly makes his way back to his house. He hopes that Svetlana will leave him alone once he gets there. He doesn’t need shit from her right now. What he needs is to stay drunk so that he can stop the thoughts of Ian from entering his brain. They hurt too much.

 

He manages to get through the front door without injuring himself or breaking anything. Which is a miracle considering he started drinking a beer about a block or two from the house even though he was already stumbling. Yevgeny is in the front room in his playpen. He stares at Mickey inquisitively as Mickey walks unsteadily towards his room. All he wants is his bed and darkness. His prayers for no run ins with Svetlana are not answered though. She stops him just inches from his salvation.

 

“Where you been? Why you smell like alcohol factory? You look like Terry.” Svetlana heavily judges his appearance.

 

“The fuck do you care. I do my thing you do yours. It’s how…” Mickey slurs and sways. He can’t finish his final thought so he gives up and tries to move towards his door again. However, this time he is stopped by his stomach, not his bitchy ex. When he goes to move his stomach lurches and all that he’s consumed in the last few hours comes back up. 

 

The vomit covers his shoes and the floor in front of him. It smells of sour alcohol because that’s all it basically is, alcohol. Mickey wipes the back of his hand along his mouth and side steps the vomit to enter his room. He takes another beer out and opens it. He should have taken the vomiting as a sign to stop his drinking for now but, he doesn’t. Instead he uses it to fuel his continued consumption. 

 

The next few days become a blur of alcohol and sleep. He doesn’t get up, he doesn’t shower. It gets so bad that Svetlana threatens to hose him down. Mickey doesn’t care. He is trying to forget about Ian, which is proving easier said than done. Each time he thinks he’s gotten close he either blacks out from all the alcohol or Debbie comes traipsing in and brings it all back. 

 

A week in though Mickey gets a wake up call he desperately needs, Mandy. Mandy comes into his room that morning and flings open his curtains. She even rips the covers off of his bed to have them washed. Mickey curses at her and she returns them with punches to his arm. She is only trying what she knows to get him up and moving, but dammit if Mickey didn’t want her to just leave.

 

“Go away Mandy!” Mickey mumbles, turning his face into his pillow.

 

“You pathetic little pussy. Like hell I’m gonna let you just wallow around in your own filth. Ian fucking needs you and you need him. So get up, shower, and march over to the Gallaghers and talk to him.” Mandy says without even looking at her brother. Instead she is grabbing clothes from his closet and throwing them down on the bed for him to wear. 

 

“It’s lucky for you Svetlana called me at her wits end with you.” Mandy continues.

 

“Wouldn’t call it luck.” Mickey hisses as she flips on the lights.

 

“GO!” Mandy yanks at her brother’s arm and pulls him out of the bed. 

 

Mickey obliges, but only because he’s slightly terrified of what Mandy might do to him if he doesn’t. Once he’s under the spray of hot water Mickey feels his mind and body start to wake up. He feels the lingering fog of alcohol slowly wash away. He is pathetic and he knows it. He can’t even keep himself together after one little thing happens. What kind of man is he to be derailed by a person?

 

His thoughts start to drift towards Ian but he nips them in the bud. If he doesn’t allow them to form he can’t be hurt by them. He can remain blissfully unaware. Locked in his own world. The shower is refreshing and feels great on his skin. He is tired, not just physically but, mentally as well. 

 

When he finally comes out of the shower, Mandy is waiting on his bed. It now has fresh sheets and blankets. She just quirks her eyebrow at him. She doesn’t have to speak for him to know the question she is asking. However, he doesn’t respond. Instead he sits on the bed next to her. He silently lays his head on her shoulder. He’s only ever this vulnerable with two people. Mandy and Ian.

 

Fuck.

 

“Wanna tell me what’s going on? When I left a few weeks ago you were determined to be there for Ian. Now you are laying in here staying drunk to avoid any and all responsibilities. What made you such a pussy again?” Mandy asks without even looking at Mickey.

 

“Ian took a lot of pills. I left him alone. It was my fault.” Mickey states softly, pulling away from his vulnerable position leaning on Mandy.

 

“You stupid fucking asshole! It’s not your fault. Ian will always be like this. He’s bipolar. There’s nothing you can do.” Mandy says, her tone harsh but Mickey knows that she means well.

 

“I didn’t get him help.” Mickey argues.

 

“Yes you did! When I came back he was in the psych ward. You got him there.”

 

“Not soon enough.”

 

“Bullshit.” 

 

A silence falls between the two siblings. They both know that the other isn’t going to come around to their way of thinking so they just decide to stop talking. 

 

They sit in silence for a time. It's not awkward, in fact it is far from that. Mandy knows that Mickey doesn't want to talk right now. So she doesn't force him. Instead she lends her support through touches and presence. 

 

After some time Svetlana knocks on the door. Mickey sighs and gets up from his spot next to his sister on the bed.

 

“Oh good. You don't stink.” Svetlana blurts the minute he opens the door.

 

“Fuck off. What do you need?” Mickey snaps, showing he doesn't have the time or energy to deal with her bullshit.

 

“Redhead girl back. Talk to her.”

 

Svetlana leaves without another word. She knows Mickey well enough to know when to leave him to his own devices. Mickey rubs his hand down his face as he curses under his breath. He doesn't really want to talk to the Gallagher’s right now. However, Debbie has done so much for him that he'd feel worse if he didn't talk to her.

 

So Mickey walks out to the front room. He finds Debbie sitting on the couch holding Yevgeny and cooing at him. It warms Mickey’s heart seeing that.

 

“Hey” Mickey says softly, he stands away from Debbie. He doesn't think he can handle getting close to her. For fear that she will try to comfort him and that'll just make it awkward.

 

“He's getting better. He checked himself into a program to get his meds balanced before he comes home.” Debbie looks at Mickey. She knows he doesn't need pleasantries or small talk. She also knows that even if Mickey doesn't say it he does still care deeply for her brother.

 

“That's good.” Mickey’s voice is resigned and dejected. He's given up fighting anything. He knows in his heart he doesn't deserve anything as good and pure as love or affection.

 

**_If I only could,_ **

**_I'd make a deal with God,_ **

**_And I'd get him to swap our places,_ **

**_Be running up that road,_ **

**_Be running up that hill,_ **

**_With no problems._ **

 

Mickey was drunk. Again. Drinking had become his daily routine. In the month since Ian’s suicide attempt, Mickey has been doing just fine. He's definitely become a functioning drunk. He'd give Frank Gallagher a run for his money. Svetlana no longer asks him to stop drinking. She just gives him a look every morning when he drinks a beer while he helps her with Yevgeny. Then he goes out with his brothers to work.

 

He doesn't really care about the work, scamming people out of their furniture, but it keeps him from thinking about Ian too much.

 

He gets back from work one day, nursing a beer, to find Ian sitting on his couch. He almost drops his can right there. The shock of it all brings the feelings forward. He can't breathe. He stumbles and mutters his go to, “Fuck”. 

 

“Hey, Mick.” Ian says with a smile. He stands up and walks to where Mickey is frozen by the door. “I thought I was a mess.” He gives a chuckle, but it dies quickly when he sees Mickey’s pain.

 

Mickey may mask his pain well but, Ian could always see it in his eyes. Ian knows to back up and give Mickey his space. He gives Mickey time to respond, but Mickey can't find it in him to do that.

 

“Where's your head at Mick.” Ian says after a considerable amount of time passes between them. He reaches out and softly takes the beer out of Mickey’s hand.

 

Mickey let's him. This is the closest he's been to Ian in a month and his body knows it. He aches for more from him. His fingers twitch and make contact with Ian’s when he grabs his beer. Then his head takes over and Mickey bolts. He moves past Ian and into his room.

 

“You can't run away Mickey. You can tell me to leave and I will. Just promise you won't run.” Ian says softly from Mickey’s doorway where he's giving Mickey a safe distance. 

 

“All I do is hurt you.” Mickey finally sighs, not looking at Ian at all.

 

Mickey only looks up when he hears Ian sigh. Mickey knows that sigh. It's Ian’s ‘Mickey you stupid idiot’ sigh. It's good he looks up because Ian is quickly crossing the room.

 

Mickey has just registered Ian is coming towards him when he finds Ian’s lips on his own. He gasps and Ian takes advantage by deepening the kiss and slipping his tongue into Mickey’s mouth. Mickey closes his eyes and just gives in to his heart.

 

The kiss finally ends and Mickey is once again rooted to the spot. He brings his finger to the corner of his mouth and rubs it. It's his signature awkward move.

 

“We both hurt each other. But please don't blame yourself for what I did. I'm the one who took those pills. Not you. I needed to get my shit figured out. Please don't blame yourself. You did the best you could.” Ian says softly, his hand gently stroking Mickey’s cheek.

 

“Did you? Figure shit out?” Mickey finally finds his voice.

 

“I'm here ain't I?” Ian grins as he uses one of Mickey’s signature phrases.

 

Mickey finds himself laughing despite himself. Ian being in his presence is like a breath of fresh air. All his fears and worries from the last month seems to disappear. It's like being with Ian makes everything click into place. 

 

Mickey brings his hand up to touch Ian's face. The softness of his skin calms every single one of Mickey’s nerve endings. The touch awakens a deep desire inside of Mickey. He needs to be touching every bit of Ian, not just his face or his hands. 

 

Mickey moves his hand from Ian’s face to his waist. He grips him tight and brings him forward so that he is flush against Mickey’s chest and hips. Then Mickey brings their lips together in a hungry, passionate kiss. Mickey backs them up until they fall onto his bed. It's been months since they were like this together. Ian’s disease being the forefront of their thoughts.

 

Soon enough they have fallen into a rhythm and are easier discarding each other’s clothing between kisses. Mickey moans deeply as Ian’s hand brushes over his erection. 

 

“Off now!” Mickey growls directing Ian to discard his pants. 

  
  
  


With panting breaths the two young men lay side by side. Mickey’s hair is in sweaty clumps where Ian had grabbed at it only moments ago. Ian looks over at Mickey and they both grin and laugh. Ian rolls over to situate himself half on Mickey, half off. He gently traces out circle patterns on Mickey’s chest as he collects his thoughts. Mickey brings his arm up and places it behind his head and stares down at Ian. He knows that his goofy smile means he's as transparent about how he feels than he's ever been before. 

 

“You always were better at actions.” Ian says softly, placing a kiss to Mickey’s chest as he scoots up towards his face.

 

“Sorry.” Mickey mumbles, tangling his fingers in the hairs on the back of Ian’s head.

 

“Don't be. You have your way of communicating. I have mine. We fit together well. It works for us.” Ian smiles and brings his mouth forward to place a quick kiss on Mickey’s lips.

 

“Mmm” Mickey manages to mumble as he deepens the kiss for a moment.

 

“Besides, Debbie told me everything. She said you were a mess this whole time. She said you cried.” Ian whispers, laying his head down on Mickey's shoulder and continues to draw circles.

 

“I'm gonna kill her.” Mickey mumbles. He grabs Ian’s hand off of his chest and links their fingers together.

 

“I'm glad you like her.” Ian sounds good, the sadness that was in his tone every time they talked before the incident is no longer there. “It's not gonna be easy Mick.”

 

“What part of living here is?” Mickey responds, hoping to silently convey that he's aware and that it doesn't bother him. 

 

“I'm gonna need you. Not for everything. I'm not gonna become Monica and watch you become Frank. But I will need your strength sometimes. You can't push away again. If that's too much it's better to break things off now than later on.” Ian squeezes his hand tightly, as if he hopes Mickey won't say they should end it.

 

“As long as you give me a chance. I'm gonna fuck up. Milkovich’s always do. But I'm trying because…” Mickey stops and pauses, clearly collecting his thoughts. With a kiss to the top of Ian’s head he separates them enough that he can look into Ian's eyes. “Because I love you.”

 

Ian doesn't respond with words right away. Instead he kisses Mickey. He puts all he has into that kiss and Mickey knows. Ian loves him too. 

 

“I'm a Gallagher and we always fuck up too. That doesn't mean I won't try for the one  _ I  _ love.” Ian says with a smile.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and Kudos are love. Let me know if you think I was over the top or too cheesy at times or whatever. I want to hear from you. Above all else ENJOY! I put so much of my own feelings and emotions into this fic because I've been having a rough time with life lately.


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